


lives of the fabulous paraders

by K0BRAK1D (pastelxzavva)



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, Welcome to the Black Parade - My Chemical Romance (Song)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, this shit is cUTE I DONT KNWO MAN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 04:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13426695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelxzavva/pseuds/K0BRAK1D
Summary: [ WELCOME TO THE BLACK PARADE/DANGER DAYS: LIVES OF THE FABULOUS KILLJOYS ALBUM ALTERNATE UNIVERSE CROSSOVER ONESHOT ]





	lives of the fabulous paraders

**Author's Note:**

> i dont know.  
> i really dont know.

The streets are long deserted. Buildings black and ashen, everyone is gone except for him and the balloon. The balloon is a skull, and he clings to the string as if the last thing he’ll ever do. For if he lets go, he knows that it really will be over. 

 

He will forget how to sing. 

 

He sighs, and slides off the edge of the parade float, tensing and whipping around at the sound of voices. There’s four colorful spots in the distance. One is red, another green and yellow, one blue with a bit of red too, and the last one seems navy blue, or maybe black? 

 

Curling the string of the balloon tighter around his fingers, he stalks forward slowly, knuckles white with how hard he clings to it. Three of the dots move away from each other, and the red one starts moving to him.

 

For a minute, he’s tempted to run to it, the urge is there, but when he turns to look at the parade float, he can still see the microphone stand and an abandoned drum kit, as well as a snapped bass string and a guitar pick. He tears up, feeling the slickness slide down his cheeks, but not smudging his makeup. 

 

He looks back to the dot and sees that it’s closer now. It’s a person. Lean and careful, picking his way across the debris, stopping to gaze at  **their** graves for a moment, seeming to sense the sadness in the area before moving on, a little bit more slowly, thoughtfully in a sense. 

 

He panics, and runs, turning and skittering away, pulling the balloon down and hiding on the float, hesitating before grabbing the pick and string, pulling them both close and cowering, eyes squeezing shut.

 

He opens his eyes again, and sighs. 

 

He will  **not** hide. This is his duty.

 

He holds tight to the balloon, lets the bass string and guitar pick drop as he climbs to the top of the float, gazing down at the person who approaches. 

 

They’re painfully thin, but with razor sharp features. Their hair is bleached blonde on top and short and brown on the sides. Scanning them up and down, he decides that this approaching figure is male.

 

“Hello.” He croaks, voice weak from lack of use. Their eyes lock, and he almost flinches. 

 

“Hi.” The other agrees, staring up at him. 

 

“Who are you?” His voice still creaks, but thankfully the boy in the red jacket doesn’t seem to mind.

 

“I… uh-“ He glances around, side to side, before swallowing hard, clearing his throat. “I’m Kobra Kid.”

 

He blinks.

 

“That’s an odd name.”

 

“It protects me from the mega-corporation that wants me dead, so I’d say it's a good one.” Kobra Kid replies, shrugging.

 

“...oh.”

 

“Yeah… ‘oh’ is a good response.” Kobra clears his throat. “So, um, who are you?”

 

He hesitates.

 

“The last parader.” He whispers, and Kobra’s eyes widened.

 

“So that’s… the graves were…” Kobra murmurs, and he nods, feeling his eyes fill with tears. There’s a heavy silence.

 

“Well, then…” Kobra pauses a second, then looks up at him once again. “Would you like to come with me? Get out of this place, I mean. We don’t have much, my brother, his boyfriend, our friend, and I, but we can give you somewhere else to stay, you can-“

 

“Stop.” He whispers, and Kobra snaps his mouth shut.

 

“Can I at least bring something to… to remember  **them** by?” He asks quietly, and Kobra smiles kindly.

 

“Of course.”

 

“...give me a bit to gather the stuff I want.” 

 

Kobra’s eyes softened.

 

“Of course. Take your time, Gerard.”

 

Gerard jumps a little, he hadn’t heard that name in so long but… he stops for a second, then grabs the guitar pick, pressing it over his heart for a second, then pockets it, picking up the bass string and moving to go meet Kobra Kid. Kobra is waiting for him, and they stop, staring at a second.

 

“You look like Mikey.” Gerard comments, and Kobra smiles sadly.

 

“My mom liked to tell me that.” Kobra chuckled, and Gerard smiles weakly, leading him over to the graves.

 

“Gerard… if you don’t mind telling me, what were they like?” Kobra asks, quiet. Gerard hesitates.

 

“Which one?”

 

“All of them.”

 

“...Frank was wild. He liked to jump around and crash into Ray and I - Mikey was good at avoiding him. He once even jumped into Bob’s lap during a set, but I’ll never know why.” Gerard wipes at his eyes, tearing up again, staring at the engraving. 

 

_ Frank Iero - A lover, an adventurer, and endlessly lively. _

 

“Ray was… he was our caretaker. He made sure we never drank too much, made sure we were healthy. He was sweet and kind, and I’m not going to lie, I kind of admired how much he was able to keep us happy. He made us laugh when we didn’t want to, and helped us through anything.” Gerard sniffles a little bit, and Kobra gently wraps an arm around his shoulders. 

 

_ Ray Toro - A listener, a supporter, and always ready to help. _

 

“And Mikey… Mikey…” Gerard sniffled, then let out a little sob, pressing his eyes into the back of his hand, feeling Kobra gently rub his shoulder.

 

“Take your time.” He murmured, a hint of definite sadness in his voice. 

 

“I- I loved him, he was my baby brother, I…” Gerard let out another painful sob, scrubbing at his eyes. “He made me laugh when Frank and Ray couldn’t, I helped him when he had nightmares, we held each other when we wanted to cry, he tried to teach me how to play the bass, I wanted to help him learn to sing but he didn’t want to. He was everything to me. If it weren’t for him, I would have committed suicide the night Frank died.” Gerard eventually blurted, sobbing a bit harder.

 

“He made me promise not to kill myself before he died, he knew what was going to happen, he  **knew.** ” Gerard sobbed out, Kobra pulling him closer.

 

_ Mikey Way - A lover, a bassist, and the sweetest little brother anyone could have.  _

 

They stayed like that for a long time, before Gerard knelt by Mikey’s grave, wrapping the balloon’s string around the root that grew over the patch of dirt that was still rich and brown, tying a knot there tightly. 

 

There was a heavy silence, before Gerard let go of the string, tense and worried.

 

But he didn’t fade away.

 

He turned slowly to Kobra, and behind him, he saw bright brown eyes, a lopsided smile, twinkling eyes, straightened brown hair, and glasses.

 

But the best part of all was hearing a little whisper in the breeze.

 

_ Thank you, Gee-Bear. _


End file.
